O R P H A N Tom Riddle Fanfic
by Calcicon
Summary: We've all been told stories as children, but my mother's stories were anything but tales. They were orders, they were rules, and they were the secrets to keep until my last dying breath. I was born into a sad fate, and a life that would never be mine. Thrust into a world of deceit, chaos, and the lingering foretelling of death. I, Vivienne Rosewood, swear that I am up to no good.
1. Just like that

My small hands were covered in warm pink mittens, which made it harder for me to hold a firm grip on anything, but they held on as tightly as they could to the much larger hands of my father, Merciless Rosewood.

I didn't have a clue where we were.

The air was cold; after all, it was Christmas time in London, and to add to that: it was snowing.

My mother, Cecilia, was smiling, and my father kept his face hidden beneath the shadows of his top hat and the walls of his long black coat - as he usually did.

I don't think I've ever even seen his face, but surely, my father was a handsome man.

_He __**must**__ be! _

I assumed, for my mother was beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world! And it only seemed right that she would marry someone even better looking than herself! I love my mother. She doesn't scare me as much as my father.

No, it's not that my father is mean; it's not that he's cruel, and my fear of him has nothing to do with his appearance either (How would it? I'd never seen his face!). My father has always been kind to me. He compliments me; he picks me up and twirls me around like a fairy, he pats my little brown head (that always feels nice!), and makes sure I always have the prettiest dresses. "Are you happy, my little queen?" he would always ask, "You should always be happy, my queen", and then he'd go speak with mother.

Whispering, looking back at little me, whispering…

What makes him scary is before he goes to work every morning. Just before he walks out the door, he'll glance back at me, standing beside mother, and I'll see the colour of his eyes reflecting off the lights of our hallway.

_Red. _

Today father didn't go to work. Instead, he has taken mother and I here, to the steps of a sad looking building. The building was entirely grey; the windows had scary looking bars on them, and the doors were just black. My father began talking to my mother. Words I did not understand. And then with that, he looked down at me. He was smiling, I could tell. "My little Vivie", he paused for a moment before kneeling down to my level, and yet, I could still not see his face even when he was so close… _scary. _"My little Vivie, your mother and I are going to go away for a very, very, _very_ long time. This is going to be your new home."

Little me began to get upset, tearing up, but my father only chuckled lightly as he wiped away a stray tear.

"Don't cry, Vivie. You know I don't like it when you cry." He says sternly. He must be frowning now.

I know he doesn't like it when I cry. Crying makes him angry. Father isn't very nice when he's angry.

He sighs, and stands back up again. He nods towards my mother before disappearing into thin air. I remember my mother telling me it was called disaperating, which was basically teleporting, and being able to quickly get from one place to the other in a blink of an eye. It was called _magic_.

Now it was only my mother and I left on the stone steps. She looked like an angel in the snow. She had beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes. Just like an angel would! But right now she didn't look like a very happy one, she looked like a sad one.

"Your father", a sigh, "he and I will always love you; we still love you, we always will, and that will never change. This… This isn't going to be forever. You'll find a better home soon. I promise. A place where you can make friends that are just like you! You'll learn all about magic and you'll be able to use it, just like your mummy and daddy!" she paused, just like father, but this time she paused to take a thick brown book from her bag, "Sweetie, I want you to read this. This is very important; only you can read this, but make sure you never lose it. Can you do that for me sweetie?"

Little me nodded eagerly, always happy, and always eager to please her mother and father.

She smiled, she looked like she was about to cry too, but it's okay now, because father isn't here. She asks me to turn around. She opens up my brown leather rucksack and places the book inside with the other things she had packed for me.

"Vivie, remember everything your father taught you, okay? Remember everything mommy has told you. Always remember. If you forget, you'll find it all in the book." She kneels down and puts her hands on the sides of my arms, rubbing them comfortingly.

"All of this, sweetie, is our little secret. Only mommy and daddy know. Don't tell anyone else, okay?"

I nod.

"Good girl."

She's still trying to keep smiling, but I can see her eyes watering even more now.

"This was always how it was suppose to be, honey… Oh dear! I don't even know why I'm tearing up! Your father would be having a field day right now if he was here… Sweetie, remember how we practiced? I know you do. It'll be just like that!"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that!"

I knew what I had to do, everything I was suppose to say, where I was going, and where I was. I knew it all now. It was just like we practiced.

"Vivienne, there will be a boy. Just like you. His name is Tom; Tom Riddle Jr. You'll like him, dear. I know you will. He's just like you!"

She stood back up, wiped the snow off her skirt, and smiled, "Make the best of it, sweetie. It's what your father would have wanted."

"Yes, mother"

I walked up the steps, towards the black door. But before I knocked, I had something to say, just before this chance was gone, I needed to say it. I turned around, she was still there, and looking a bit confused.

"Mother…. Mother, I-"

"Don't be scared, sweetie. It's what we both must do"

"I know, mother, but I-"

"It's okay sweetie, I know." She smiled, a real warm smile that only a mother could give, "I love you too"

She was gone. _Dissaperated_.

I stared at the spot where she once stood; she was gone, just like that.

Just like that.

I turned around, and knocked on the black door to the orphanage.

Just like that.

"_I love you, mother" – words better left unsaid. _


	2. Found, but never lost

The woman who answered the door just frowned and sighed at the sight of me. She quickly ushered me inside, slamming the door as soon as both my brown boots hit the old wooden floor.

"Got another one!" she yelled into a small desk area where a guard was seated, reading his newspaper. He snorted in what seemed like disgust, and walked over to unlock the dark brown door ahead of me, which the woman, again, ushered me through.

There was the obvious flight of stairs directly in front of me and I could see two separate corridors to my left and right with various other doors (dark brown, dark brown!). The floors were made of dark wood and the walls had a depressing paneling of a greyish blue with the same dark wood as the floor on the bottom half. There wasn't much furniture except for the odd chair or couch that seemed to be randomly placed throughout the corridors. The walls to my left and right held frames of pictures with whom I assumed were the many children and staff that inhabited this 'humble abode'.

They all looked dull.

This entire place was dull.

What only added a bit of liveliness to the place was the sound of children playing outside… outside? Perhaps this place had a playground, or a courtyard of sorts….

I was, at least, a bit hopeful.

The woman began to usher me up the flight of stairs, and then down the hall to the right.

More doors. More depressing….

We stopped at the door right at the very end. The woman opened said door and shoved me through (yet again!), stating that she'll be back, slamming the door, and then rushing off elsewhere.

I sighed. I was glad they at least didn't try to take anything from me, but I'd at least thought she'd try to get my name.

"Just like that"

I walked over to the bed. This would be my room from now on… This dull, grey, and dark room with it's single barred window. Maybe I'll be able to at least put up some of my drawings… I hope mother packed some crayons and paper into my bag… or maybe there will be some I could find here.

Unpacking my bag, the first thing I pulled out was the book, it was leather bound, and had a beautiful engraving of a golden rose on it's spine. Pretty. I needed to keep it safe and hidden, but for now I laid it down on the bed.

There wasn't anything else in my bag.

That was it.

The book.

The bed wasn't as comfortable as the one I usually slept in at home, but then again, comfort obviously wasn't this orphanages' forte to begin with.

The woman had come back a few minutes after I hid the book under a loose floorboard beneath my bed. She'd finally asked me for my name, but didn't care for much about anything else I had to say. I didn't mind, they were mostly lies.

I fell asleep only moments after she left. Everything was tiring to take in.

But I was awake now, and it was already the next day. The day after Christmas.

No one had come to get me for breakfast, so I thought I'd take it upon myself to get there on my own, or at least try to. I assumed they'd have a mess hall (or room) on the ground floor, so I made my why down the stairs first.

Just as I was about to reach the last few steps I was sent flying off the stairs and ended up scraping my knee and the palms of my hands on the tartan carpet. I was pushed. _PUSHED_.

I turned around to find the culprit. It was a chubby boy with blonde hair. I say chubby, but he looked like he was the kind of boy who ate a minimum of 5 chocolate bars a day. Chubby was putting it nicely, and at this moment I didn't think I needed to be nice. So he was fat.

"Hey! Why'd you do that?" I asked as I got up, gingerly swatting away any dust that might have collected on my grey dress (the woman gave it to me, I didn't really have a choice). My knees were red and so were the palms of my hands… this hurt.

"Haha! You fell!" he pointed and laughed.

"I did not fall, you pushed me!" I huffed, were muggle children usually this… this… _rude_? This was the first one I met, and mother always said first impressions were important, but this first impression was a big… big… _meanie muggle!_

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

I sighed, I couldn't believe this was really happening. All I wanted was some breakfast (preferably scones with jam and butter… _preferably_.) but all I got was this… this…

"Fat Billy." Another boy spoke from further up the stairs.

It was a boy who looked to be the same age as me. He was a small, thin looking boy with swept back brown hair, and pale blue eyes. He too, was wearing the standard grey pantsuit as Billy (Like I said, no choice. I doubt anyone here has a choice).

"What did you just call me, shrimp?" Billy turned to face the brown haired boy.

I didn't think the brown haired boy was really a shrimp. Well, undoubtedly we both looked dwarfed compared to Billy, but I think everyone here probably looked just as dwarfed too.

"Fat, He called you fat, Billy." I spoke.

"You shut up! You… You… _GIRL!_"

The brown haired boy chuckled, equally as amused with Billy's uncreative reply as I was.

"Yes, I am a girl."

"Yeah, and you have cooties!"

I giggled. _Cooties_.

"What's so funny? I bet you also have a crush on Tom Riddle!"

I paused. Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle. I looked up towards the brown haired boy. "Tom Riddle… Jr.?"

The expression on the boys face was that of anger, or annoyance, I wasn't quite sure.

"Cootie Girl and Riddle, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Billy sang, as he ran away down a hall.

I kept staring up at the boy, he was now making his way down the stairs. I smiled as he reached the ground in front of me. "Hello" I greeted.

He looked at me with an expression mixed of confusion and disgust, and simply ignored me and walked down the hall Billy had just run down. I hurried to catch up to him, and then I walked beside him, smiling wildly and in silence as we made our way to the mess hall.

I found you, Tom Riddle.

I found you.


	3. Too Late, Mr Rabbit

I was right. It wasn't a mess hall. It was a mess room. Literally. Billy was making most of the mess though as he gobbled up his mashed potatoes – it was flying everywhere!

The room was packed with sad looking children, all sitting lined up on wooden planks beneath the dark wooden tables. Interiors were the same wherever she went in this place. Dull. Boring. Ugly.

At least there was consistency, right?

There was an empty spot in the far corner of the room, by the window. An entire table was empty. Tom made his way there as soon as we entered the hall, he didn't even spare a glance at the other tables. He already knew where he was going to sit; it was practically reserved for him.

The room of children all turned their eyes to stare at me, understandably. I was the new kid, and I just entered the room with Tom Riddle Jr. but I smiled at them, a smile that shocked them, I doubt they were use to seeing a happy face. I then followed suit with Tom, and walked to the far side of the room where he sat, staring out the window.

I plopped myself right next to him, and waited for the mess lady to hand me the gruel looking platter of mash potatoes and gravy. I too, started staring out the window, and I realized what he was looking at. He was watching the family at the park across from the orphanage. It was a family playing around with their young ones, a little boy and girl. Frolicking about with their little bubbly faces.

I turned to Tom, and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to look at me, a bit surprised, I didn't think he realized that I was sitting here this entire time, or he was just surprised to see anyone sitting here. When he realized it was me, his face scrunched up in disgust, but I only smiled.

"It's so disgusting, isn't it?" I asked.

He looked surprised, and then suspicious, "Yes… their faces are certainly disgusting"

I chuckled, "Ugly muggles", and then I started to eat my mash and gravy, but I could feel his eyes on me. The entire time, he only watched me.

"You're not like them"

We were sitting outside now, on one of the benches in the courtyard as we watched the other kids run about, the ground held a thin layer of snow, and it crunched beneath their feet. Billy was picking on a little girl in the middle of the yard, his lackeys all crowded behind him, the other children simply watched.

"We're not like them at all, Tom," I said as I made my way towards the crowd, Tom watching me, he's always watching me.

"You're so ugly, no wonder your mother and father left you!" Billy yelled right into the little girls face.

"They probably couldn't stand looking at you, they couldn't sleep! Why did they have such an ugly cry baby?!"

The girl had started to cry, her black hair beginning to stick to her face, her hands clenched in fists by her side, and she was such a small little girl too. "Billy, are you picking on another girl already?" I asked with a cruel smile.

"Shut up cootie girl! You have cooties and a crush on Tom Riddle!"

The crowd ignited in "ewww"'s and "gross!"

"Billy, don't you have a pet rabbit?" I asked, sweetly.

His face turned dark, he was angry, and scared.

"Don't you dare touch Ramsey! I'll… I'll-"

"You'll what, Fat Billy?" it was Tom, he had made his way over, and the crowd of children visibly began to disperse, some glancing back in fear.

Billy looked like he was about to cry. And he did.

"Don't touch Ramsey!" he wailed as he ran across the yard, and quickly retreating inside the building, probably to check on Ramsey.

Too bad Ramsey wasn't there anymore.

Tom and I both smiled as we looked towards the railings above the door.

Too bad Ramsey wasn't there anymore.


	4. Going Somewhere?

Tom and I were brought out into the entrance room where the guard sat at his desk, reading another newspaper. The woman stood with her hands on her hips, she was furious.

"What ya' think you kids are playin' at?"

It was hard to understand a word she was saying, I now guessed that she wasn't always living in London, and that her accent came out the most when she was angry.

"You killed poor Billy's rabbit! How did you two even get him onto the railings?"

Tom and I kept our faces innocent, and free of emotion.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs Pam" Tom started.

"Yeah, Mrs Pam, Tom and I don't know what you're talking about. Why would anyone want to kill Ramsey?" I asked sweetly.

She looked even more furious, "Look here-"

The black door opened, an old man with a bushy beard walked in.

"Hello, I'm looking for a Tom Riddle Jr.? I believe I sent you a letter"

He was wearing a brown button coat, and a newspaper boy cap. His beard was pure white, and bushy. He reminded me of Father Christmas.

"Oh, you're… you're looking for Tom Riddle Jr.? You must be Professor Dumbledore! I hadn't realized what day it was! You have to understand my surprise from receiving your letter in the first place; Tom's never had a visit from any relatives during his time here… If you'll follow me this way… C'mon Tom"

The old man smiled. I looked towards Tom; he looked suspicious of the old man.

I kept myself on guard; watching the old man tentatively, as Mrs. Pam lead Tom and him to a reception room. I followed behind quietly, and snuck into the room at the last moment, and placed myself to the side of the door.

The old man smiled at Mrs. Pam. "Madam, if it's quite alright with you, I'd like to speak with Tom alone."

She hurriedly left the room; she didn't even spare a glance at me. I doubt she realized I was even there.

"Are you a doctor? Mrs. Pam has been wanting to get me looked at for a long time," Tom asked.

The old man chuckled, "No, I'm a professor at a school for people like you, for people like me…. A school of _magic_"

"_Magic?" _

"Yes, magic" the old man smiled, "you can do things, can't you Tom? Things… Things other children cannot do"

Tom nodded, "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want without having to train them… and I can make bad things happen to bad people"

The old man stayed silent, seemingly contemplating what Tom has just said.

"You said you come from a school of magic… Prove it."

Dumbledore smiled.

In the corner of the room there was a tall wooden cabinet, and in only a moment it became engulfed in flames. Tom looked shocked, surprised, and there was a momentary flicker of excitement in his eyes. "You can learn how to do that at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Tom was now curiously making his way toward the flames.

"Hogwarts is a school for magic, we teach you how to control your magic, we teach you how to use it… Tom, perhaps you'd like to take a look inside."

Tom wasn't afraid, and he opened the cabinet up. Inside was the mangled corpse of Ramsey, Billy's pet rabbit.

"At Hogwarts, we don't tolerate actions such as this. Do you understand that, Tom?"

Tom nodded, but just as Dumbledore was making his way out the room, Tom spoke up again, "And I can talk to snakes", silence in the room, my eyes widened, _parseltongue, _"They come to me, they find me… they whisper stories… is that normal for people like me?"

_No _

Dumbledore stayed silent, he was looking at me now, but he didn't look angry or surprised… just… _curious_.

I walked out from my spot by the door and held my hand out to Tom, "Tom, it's time for us to go, isn't that right, Professor Dumbledore?"

That seemed to shock the professor before he chuckled and nodded, "You know more than you should, child," he said before making his way out the door.

Tom stood staring at the door, completely ignoring my outstretched hand, "Where are we going, Rosewood?" he asked, expressionless, and monotone.

I sighed and brought my hands back down to my side, I reached out for the door handle, before stepping out of the room I glanced back, and replied to him with a smile "We're going to our new home, Tom"


	5. Curious, and even more Curious

I let out a sigh as I leaned back against my door; I doubted I'd be getting a personal visit anytime soon. Walking towards my sad excuse for a bed, I leant down and pulled back the loose board beneath it. The book was just as I had left it.

Pulling it up from the hidey-ho, I plopped down onto my bed, admiring the gold rose embossing on its spine as it lay on my lap. If books were people, this book was an elegant and powerful woman cloaked in black - a woman to be feared, but a woman whom the world yearned with curiosity for. I sighed with envy; she was a woman I strived to become.

I carefully turned over the cover, finding that the book held a lingering smell of lavender that wafted beneath your nose at each turning of a page. The first page held a single sentence in beautiful cursive: **notre avenir est plein de secrets, presque aussi complet que notre passé**

French.

I groaned.

My mother always boasted about French being the "_Language of Love"_, and I agreed. It was a beautiful language, and I knew it well, but I was hardly fluent.

I turned over the page. It was blank. Flipping over the other pages I found them to be blank as well… was this a mistake? Had my mother given me the wrong book?

Just as I was about to close the book in defeat: magic happened.

In the middle of the page I watched a sentence be written in by some invisible hand/pen/quill/?

Newly scribbled in, the page was no longer blank, and it now read:

**_Welcome, Master Vivienne Celia Rosewood_**

I sat wide-eyed and bewildered.

**_How may I help you?_**

One would have thought I'd been turned to stone! I sat frozen, and unmoving. The book was… communicating with me. I began to fluster about: _What do I do? Do I just ask? Can it hear me?_ _Where do I begin?_

"H-… Hello" I spoke with a shaky little voice, feeling a bit silly as I sat alone in my room…. talking to a book.

**_Hello, Miss Rosewood._**

With each new sentence it replaced the other, not leaving any trace of what was previously said.

I took a deep breath, I needed to focus, and keep an open mind.

I became more confident, I believed in my mother, I trust her, so I would have to trust the book and it's powers… whatever powers it may have besides literacy.

"What…" I thought about what I was going to say before continuing, "What are you?"

**_I am the book in your hand._**

Was this _thing_ messing with me? I chuckled lightly before continuing, "Please explain, **_Book_**"

**_I am this book. I have no name, I am not a whole being, I am nothing, and I am this book. _**

"Are you… alive?"

**_No, but I am not dead. One would have to be alive before being dead._**

**_…_**

**_I was never alive._**

"You refer to yourself as _I,_ a book is not an '_I'_. A book is '_it_'."

**_I am a conscious embodying this book. I am I. Myself. I am not 'it'._**

I smile down at the page, "You're not just an object. You are a mind, a being. One such as yourself deserves a name, I can't call you **_Book, _**that's not who you are, is it?"

**_I have no name. _**

**_Who I am? I am I. _**

**_I 'exist' within this book. It is my vessel. _**

I sighed, rolling my eyes; I guess I'd have to make up a name for this… **_book_** "fine, then what kind of book is this?"

**_This book is enchanted, I am a companion of sorts, I provide answers to questions you need answered, and I can also provide a stimulating conversation if the need for one were to ever arise. _**

**_…_**

**_That is as good of an answer that I can give at this time. _**

"Can I call you Nym?"

**_No._**

"Alright, then how about-"

**_I have no name._**

"Aren't I your master?"

**_…._**

**_Yes._**

Smiling, I let out a triumphant laugh, "Well, until you think of a better name, I'll just have to call you Nym"

**_…. _**

After our little banter, I asked Nym various questions about Hogwarts, and after getting all my answers I now knew as much as I needed to know, for now:

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is a large age-old castle up in Scotland. Getting there would require a couple of hours in a train – queue inward groaning. The school has 4 houses, and an enchanted sorting hat that allocates which house you'll be in according to your traits – Nym says that a lot more actually goes into the sorting hats decision, and that this was only the simple way to put it. The 4 houses include: Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw.

Personally, after hearing the different descriptions for each house, I hoped that I'd get into Ravenclaw.

Nym suggested that before I do anything, I should first look into getting myself a wand… and other basic supplies (e.g. uniform, robes, books… you get the idea). I, of course, asked where I'd find those things, to which Nym informed me of Diagon Alley.

Diagon Alley was apparently a market place for Witches and Wizards, and where the students of Hogwarts haul butts to for supplies before the beginning of a new year. Nym says that it's likely, while I'm there, I would bump into students doing their pre-school shopping, and that it would be a good opportunity to meet/socialize with those of whom I would be attending Hogwarts with.

"Nym…"

**_Yes, Miss Rosewood?_**

"I don't have any money."

**_Your mother has informed me that, should you need it, there is a large sum of money available for you in your vault at Gringotts._**

I became excited, "You're in contact with my mother?!"

**_No, I apologize. That is something I am unable to do. Your mother simply informed me of various matters before this book came into your possession._**

**_…_**

**_I have knowledge on many things, but there are times when certain conditions must be met before I am able to give you the answer you seek._**

I rushed down the stairs, sending the sounds of hurrying feet throughout the building. At the bottom of the stairs stood Tom, Mrs. Pam, and Professor Dumbledore. Mrs. Pam was fussing about with the buttons of Tom's oversized dark grey coat while Dumbledore simply smiled up at me as I descended down the last few steps. Today we were going to Diagon Alley (I assumed). The professor had signed us out for the day, and I was certain it was so he could help us gather supplies – and where else to go but Diagon Alley?

"Now, you two better be on your best behavior! Don't give Professor Dumbledore here any trouble, alright?" Mrs. Pam fussed at the two of us.

Tom sighed. He'd already walked out into the guard's reception area, waiting impatiently by the black double doors. I could tell he was curious about where we were going. The professor chuckled, bided farewell to Mrs. Pam, promising he'll bring us back on time, and then signaled for me to follow him to the exit.


End file.
